Secrets We Remember
by Thecastlefan101
Summary: It started with a grunt, but when she couldn't take it anymore she gets out of bed, stomps off to her bathroom, and that's when she finds him. He's standing in her bathroom pants around his ankles, head back, eyes closed, and a hand around himself.
1. Chapter 1

"But if I see that doorknob turn, I'll have you know Mr. Castle that I sleep with a gun."

"Understood."

She gave him a firm nod before turning away to go her bedroom. She changed into something more comfortable before brushing her teeth and hair and getting into bed.

It started with a grunt but at that time she didn't think anything of it. Just natural noises that comes from a person trying to get comfortable on a couch. But then she heard it again and wondered if he made these sounds in his sleep. In which case she would have to kick him out. She won't be able to sleep with this happening all night.

Kate settled deeper into bed and pulled the fluffy blankets back up to her chin. Despite her initial annoyance with him demanding to stay the night and protect her she thinks it's sweet that he cares this much about her. But it's not his fault. She was taken back when he said that their killer was coming after her because of Nikki Heat. She wishes she could convince him it has nothing to do with him, that this psycho is using Nikki as an excuse to kill. But she just couldn't be sentimental when it's just them alone in her apartment.

She closes her eyes and thinks about the case, what she has to do in the morning but that when she hears it again. A groan- soft, that's coming from the bathroom? Is Castle taking a shit in her bathroom? That's disgusting but she won't judge him.

She tries to clear her mind, focus on something that'll help her fall asleep but all she can think of is _him_. How heroic and dare she say sexy it is of him to protect her while she sleeps. How firm he was when she tried to make him leave.

Damn him

Since they started this case he's been more protective of her. Standing closer when they're out in the field, coming up with better leads, not letting her go anywhere alone. At first it was annoying, just Castle being Castle but now she recognizes it for what it truly is: worry. And for some reason this realization tugs on her heart strings, gives her a warming feeling. She likes him a little more for it.

_"Uhh."_

But not for that.

How long is his poop? Now she really is on the verge of kicking him out. Just for infecting her bathroom.

She hears it again and this time it's deep, guttural moan and that's it!

Either he needs to shut up or leave. She can't sleep with all the moans, groans, grunts, and_ him._ This arrangement isn't necessary anyway. She can take care of herself.

So she gets up out of bed and storms to the bathroom to tell him he needs to go. She'll be okay for the night.

When she goes next door the bathroom door is slightly ajar so she just pushes it open and yells "Castle!" At the same time he whispers "Kate" without actually taking in his position. But when she does her jaw drops and she loses her breath.

He isn't pooping.

He's standing in the middle of the bathroom, pants around his ankles, his head back, eyes closed, and a hand around his penis.

When he looks up at her his eyes grow in size and the hand on his cock stops it's movement.

She can't move, can't breathe, can't _look away_ either and doesn't know what's come over her. Richard fucking Castle is masterbating in her bathroom.

Her eyes flick down to his other hand, the one holding his phone and she's amazed that she can see it from here. Clear as day.

It's a picture of her.

One taken of her at his book launch party a couple months back.

His eyes follow hers and he turns the phone screen off, as if that makes it better.

"Kate," he says, about to explain himself. But it's the way he says her name, all breathily and erotic. It starts a pulsing between her thighs, a desire so rich and raw, she wants him to tame it.

But she can't move, only can shake her head to tell him to shut up. Can't take the sound of her name on his lips.

And she stands there, horny, and stares. She can feel herself getting wet, breathing harder and her eyes flick to his and he's staring back at her.

And then he faces her full front, never attempts to block himself from her penetrating gaze. Kate looks back down and can see him, visibly see him getting harder and she wants to touch it. Doesn't know where these desires are coming from but she doesn't care.

She wants to touch him while she touches herself to ease the ache between her legs.

That's when he moves. No longer able to stop himself from coming.

He pumps himself harder, faster, and the grunts begin again, louder now that's she's here. And she watches. Amazed at his size and the whipping sound from his wetness and pumping.

"Kate," he whispered through gritted teeth, a plea in his voice. A beg. And maybe that's what brings her back to her rational self.

She runs.

Back into her bedroom and locks the door.

And she doesn't come out.

* * *

She doesn't listen for her front door as she slides her yoga pants down her legs. Doesn't give Castle's whereabouts a second thought as her fingers trail down her body. All she can see, imagine is him touching himself and her name coming out of his mouth.

She spreads her legs and touches her first finger to her swollen mound and her hips lift off the bed from the initial shock of intensity.

And "Castle" is all she thinks of as she rubs herself faster, harder. And when she feels herself coming she slows down, carries herself over the cliff steadily. Doesn't make any sounds just in case he's still here.

But as she falls apart she couldn't stop the_ "Cassstle,"_ from escaping her lips.

What is she doing?


	2. Chapter 2

When she wakes the next morning, mind to fuzzy to think, to remember the events that took place last night. Her hands are bunched up in her long night shirt as she walks out her bedroom to her kitchen.

She hears him before she sees him.

_What is he still doing here?_

Her eyes are instantly drawn to the hands holding the spatula and flipping the pancakes. Those hands. The same hands he used on himself last night. Did he wash them? Or is _he_ still on them? A part of her finds it completely erogenous and it makes the other part of her, stomach turn. She's not sure if in a good way.

"You're still here," she finally says, "and you're making pancakes."

He pauses, looks at her solemnly, and turns back to the stove. "Yeah. Thought we could talk about last night. I was hoping for something more casual like bacon and eggs but your eggs are expired and your bacon has something furry on it."

"You didn't have to do this I most order in anyway."

He laughs- half heartedly, but there's a smile to break some of the tension between them.

"Figured that from the styrofoam temple you've got going on in that refrigerator."

"Look Castle-"

"I made coffee. I think your filters broken though. I can buy you a new one if you want."

"Looks like you've thought of every distraction."

"Except the paper," he said finishing with the pancakes to head over to the front door.

"We don't have time for the paper Castle. We only have a few minutes to talk about last night then we have to find John Doe's body."

"I know. I'll be a second." Then Castle opened her front door and their moment was lost.

* * *

"You two can escort the body to the morgue...once your dressed of course," said agent Shaw. "Detective Beckett, a word."

Beckett lead Shaw to a vacant part of her apartment so they could talk privately.

"If you don't mind my asking I'd love to know what happened between you and Castle last night."

Beckett instantly wanted to say "nothing happened" but she didn't want to be caught in a lie by someone who's been profiling people for years.

"What do you mean?" She said instead.

"Come on Detective. I've been reading people for a very long time and like I said I'm hardly ever wrong. Something definitely happened between you two."

Beckett sighed, exasperated but told Shaw about last night anyway, leaving out the graphic details.

"Do you regret it?"

"Of course! Nothing like this has ever happened between us before. And every time I look at him all I can see is...plus I hate myself for standing there. It was so unlike me."

Shaw observed her for a moment, as if pondering an idea in her head.

"What if I told you I could help?"

"I'd ask how. Other than having a time machine."

"Being in the FBI has it's perks Detective. And when you've been working as long as me you start to know people."

"I'm not sure I'm following."

"There's a pill, usually reserved for rape or PTSD victims, that depending on how many you take, makes you forget the last couple hours. I can get you some. Slip one to Castle, yourself, problem solved."

"Are you for real?" This sounds absolutely like something Castle made up for one of his books.

"Yeah. I'll let you know when I get them. Don't worry it'll be fine," Shaw said before leaving.

No seriously, Kate thought. Is she serious?

* * *

What if it's real? What if the pill is real and it works? Both she and Castle could forget that stupid encounter last night.

Or maybe just him...

Jordan Shaw calls her later that day, tells her she has everything she needs and it'll be on her desk in five minutes.

She finds the pills there, at least a dozen, with it finds a note in Shaw's handwriting.

**_"Detective, each pill erases the last five hours. I'm trusting you to keep this secret."_**

This must be real then.

Without thinking, Kate drops two into Castles coffee.

* * *

**This is short because I don't know if people will still want to read it after finding out about the nonexistent pill.**

**I'm well aware that no such pill exists. I made it up when the idea as a whole came to me.**

**However there are different tests out there that are being done to cause memory loss. I'm having the pills do the same thing with my own added embellishments.**

**Here's one link I found in my research. Just remove spaces and follow what's in parentheses.**

**Http(colon) (backslash) (backslash) (wwwdot) wired.(co).(uk)**

**(backslash) magazine/archive/2012/04/features/the-forgetting-pill**


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